9:15pm

He really shouldn’t have done this.

Making some lame comment about the cocoa and Bailey’s going straight through him, he excused himself to the restroom. But the real reason for the trip was in his back pocket.

He spotted it going through the red folder marked 'CIA', a greeting-card sized envelope with his name in her handwriting. Flashbacks to a green teapot and a cruel twist on Secret Santa played in his head and he remembered a similar envelope that he still had, despite coming this close to ripping it up and throwing it away at least two dozen times now. With a glance to the kitchen he slipped the envelope in his back pocket, and remained extremely aware of it since then.

Turning the lock behind him, he finally pulled out the envelope and slipped his finger under the flap. Then he paused, was this an invasion of privacy? Would she get angry at him for reading it? Would it even have anything he wanted to read? He rationalized it by reminding himself it was still in that folder and she did want to give it to him, or at least had wanted to give it to him at one point in the day. Before he could talk himself out of it, he lifted the flap.

It actually wasn’t a card at all but a letter, and multiple pages at that. He skimmed the start, a benign “hope you enjoy your gift.” but quickly turned into her recounting how she’s missed his friendship and hoped to rekindle it in some form through this prank. Then his eyes fell on “The truth is…” and he swallowed hard.

The truth is when I heard you were coming back to Scranton, it was the best I felt in six months. It felt like the second chance I didn’t deserve. I hardly slept from so much excitement. When you walked in I thought my heart would burst, I forgot how tall you were and how your smile lit up the room. Jim is back, I thought, My Jim is back. And for a second I thought you felt it too, like maybe this time we could finally get it right. But it was soon obvious that something was different. And then in the parking lot I saw why. And later you told me why (I hate that parking lot btw).

Jim let out a chuckle, he wasn’t too fond of that parking lot either.

I felt like such a fool for getting my hopes up. Of course you were with someone, who wouldn’t be able to see immediately how amazing you are and want to be with you, besides some idiot?

The thing is I did know that in May, I did know how amazing you were, and part of me knew I did want to be with you. I wish I had a good reason for why I said what I said. My only not-so-good reason was I was scared, you were so direct and blunt and I couldn’t not face it. I had pretended for so long but I could no longer ignore that the person I wanted to spend my time with, the person whose smile I longed to see, wasn’t my fiance. By the time I finally admitted this to myself, you were gone.

And I understood why you had to leave, if I were you I would have probably done the same. That doesn’t mean I still wasn’t a little frustrated at you, that I wish you gave me a little time to think about everything.

He chewed his lip, all he could think about this May was how he felt, how much pain he was in. And he was angry at her for not seeing it, sometimes even sure she did see it but she didn’t care. He didn’t think much about how she felt, what the consequences for her must have been.

But at the same time I think your empty chair was the jolt I needed. I leaned on you too much sometimes to cheer me up, I could joke around with you and pretend everything else in my life was okay. Without you there, I had to admit it wasn’t. And it made it clear that I had to call it off.

I won’t pretend I have a good reason for not calling you. I almost did a hundred times, but came up with a dumb reason every time not to. At first it felt too soon, I still had so much to sort out, then suddenly it felt too late

Now I'm not sure where we go from here. I know where I want to go but that's probably not an option. I mostly just miss you, your smile and your laugh and your jokes. You sit five feet from me at work but it may as well be five miles. If nothing else comes from this gift, I hope that distance can feel a little smaller and you and I can at least start to feel like friends.

Yours, always

Pam

His mouth went dry and his eyes darted up and down the letter at different sentences, so sure he was just imagining the words and once he blinked enough they would disappear. Maybe this time we could get it right. I did want to be with you. I know where I want to go. Yours, always. He had been keeping her at arm’s length since he came back, sure she only wanted friendship and unsure if he could even do that. But she wanted more too, had all along.

A glance at his watch made him realize he had been in the bathroom far longer than normal, so he stuffed the letter back into the envelope and into his back pocket and returned to the kitchen.

Pam gave him a sideways glance as he fumbled through the discs for the cookie press and he was sure she could feel his nervousness but she said nothing and slipped in the disc for what was supposedly Santa Clause.

Surprisingly enough, the cookies did pass for Santas, and along with some wreaths and snowflakes they filled up two more trays. They decorated and talked about all things holidays: things like their favorite gifts they received as children (for him it was hands down his Sony Walkman, hers were a tie between art pencils from her dad and a Barbie Dream House. “Had to share that with my sister though, only downside”) and favorite Christmas movies (he was partial to A Christmas Story, she loved both Miracle on 34th Streets. “The older one is just a classic and I had a big crush on Dylan McDermott in the new one,” she confessed). Which then led to a spirited debate about whether or not Die Hard was a Christmas movie

“It’s not a Christmas movie, it’s a movie that happens to take place on Christmas, big difference,” Pam said, taking the latest sheet of cookies out of the oven and setting it on the counter.

Sitting at the table in front of the other batches of cookies, Jim shook his head. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about this, Beesly.”

“I didn’t either!” They both laughed, and Pam glanced at the clock display of the microwave. “It’s getting a little late, we should probably go deal with your bike.”

Jim blinked, he had in all honesty forgotten about the bicycle still sitting at Dunder Mifflin with flat tires. Reluctantly he stood and walked towards Pam in the kitchen. “I suppose you’re right. We can go get the bike pump at my place then you can drop me off at work.”

Pam nodded, then put on a smile, “You’re not leaving without a few cookies though.”

“Yes,” Jim said quietly with a fist pump, and Pam laughed.

“There are some ziplocs in that top drawer by the oven,” she said, taking her spatula and pushing the latest batch onto an ever-growing cookie pile.

Jim grabbed a baggie and when he shut the drawer he saw it. It was obscured by tins and other baking utensils but there was the green teapot on the counter right next to the stove-top, as if she used it every day. How many times must she have wanted to put it in the back of the cupboard and forget about it, maybe even give it away. But there it was, like she was okay being reminded daily of everything, good and bad, she just wanted to keep a little bit of him close by. He thought of the letter in his back pocket and knew what he needed to do.

“Okay, I want a couple of everything, and I’ll also take my misshapen camels,” Jim said, hoping he sounded somewhat normal.

Pam took the baggie from him with a smile, and he tried not to watch her too long as she carefully curated a bag of cookies for him.

* * * * *

“Okay, I’ll only be a minute, I’m fairly sure I know where my bike pump is,” Jim said as Pam pulled up to his apartment building.

Pam arched an eyebrow, “Only fairly sure?”

“Pretty sure,” Jim said with a grin. Pam laughed and said she was fine waiting and Jim got out of the car, walking as briskly as he could without running to his apartment door.

He knew right where his bike pump was, in the closet by the front door. What he was only pretty sure about was the location of the shoebox filled with sticky notes and ticket stubs and other ephemera that mostly pertained to her. It wasn’t in the bedroom closet like he thought, nor under the bed. He stood in his living room, scratching the back of his head and trying to think where it was, eyes falling onto the shelf of DVDs and records. Yes, he remembered, the bedroom was too close, unlike her and the teapot he hadn’t wanted anything that reminded him of everything nearby or in view. He knelt down to peek behind some records and there was the cardboard box. He sat back on his heels and balanced the box on his legs.

Memos with her handwriting, a yogurt lid with paper clips, snapshots from last year's Christmas party, he was so tempted to just leave this box at Mark’s when he moved to Connecticut, or in his Stamford apartment when he moved back. He never did because despite everything he couldn’t bear the thought of it ending up in a trash bin somewhere, because it all still meant something to him. Under the photos was a white envelope with her name on it. He couldn’t say exactly why he took it back, it wasn’t so much he lost his nerve, more like it didn’t feel like the right time.

“You really had to dig for that bike pump, huh?” Pam joked once he was back in the car.

“Yeah,” he replied, rubbing his hands and warming them in front of the air vents, his thoughts only on the card in his back left pocket. It finally felt like the right time, and he could only hope he wouldn’t lose his nerve.

* * * * *

Once parked in the Scranton Business Park lot, Jim jumped out to grab his bicycle out of the bushes and wheeled it to the front of Pam’s car so the headlights could help him see what he was doing. Pam stood there, bike pump in hand and his satchel strap on her shoulder and then stood watching him with her nose tucked into her striped scarf as he filled up the tires.

He pushed down on the handle bars a couple times to test the tires and smiled at Pam, “That should hold at least until I get home.”

“What are you going to do with the pump?” Pam asked, handing him his bag.

“Uhhh,” he looked back and forth between the bag to the bike pump and then lifted the flap of his bag, awkwardly stuffing in the pump to where it only stuck out halfway. “That should do it.”

Pam giggled softly before her eyes fell to her shoes. “Well, thanks for the cookie help.”

“Yeah, it was a lot of fun, I’m gonna see if I can turn my mom onto the spritz cookie tradition.”

They smiled at each other for a moment, then Pam shivered, “Okay, um, text me when you get home?”

Jim half grinned, “Yeah, of course.” He watched Pam make her way to the car door and looked at the ground, taking a deep breath. “Hey, Pam.”

She dropped the hand that was on her door handle and looked to Jim with wide eyes. “Yes?”

Reaching into his right back pocket, he took a couple steps towards her. “I, um, I saw this, when I looked through that folder.” He held out the envelope with his name on it. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have, I just saw my name and…”

Her eyes on the letter in his hand, she took several unsteady breaths. “Did - did you read it?” He nodded and she chewed her lip before taking the envelope from him, “Oh, okay. Thanks.”

What are you doing, idiot? She thinks you’re rejecting her, Jim’s mind screamed. “Wait,” he frantically reached to his other pocket and pulled out his letter. She looked to him with shiny eyes before taking the envelope and lifting the flap. He had no words and his heart felt like it would jump out of his chest as she opened the card and started to read.

Her eyebrows knitted, “When did you write this?”

“Last year, it was with the teapot,” he said, amazed that his mouth could form a whole sentence.

She continued reading, her eyes welling with tears until one fell down her cheek when she gasped a little. “Yours, Always.” she read with a slight hiccup. “That’s the same thing I -”

“I know,” he said, left out a quick nervous laugh before pressing his lips together, his own eyes starting to sting.

She breathed shakily, little clouds forming and dissipating quickly in front her of her mouth in the cold winter air. “Do you - do you still feel the same-”

He took one more step forward and answered her question with his lips on hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her. She let out a sob and kissed him back hard, her arms circling his neck.

“I’m so sorry, just for everything this year,” Pam tearfully said, burying her face into Jim’s neck.

He put his hand on her head, stroking her hair. “Please, I’m the one that’s sorry, I left and you had to deal with everything on your own -”

She lifted her head, “But I understand why you left, I really do.”

“Let’s just agree we were both idiots this year,” Jim said.

Pam laughed and nodded then stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. He kept smiling as his lips touched hers, finally they’re figuring this out. Finally this damn parking lot wasn’t the worst place in the world.

“So, um what about … Karen?” Pam said quietly.

Jim shook his head, “That’s over, completely.” He leaned in, desperate to keep kissing her but she tilted her head down.

“Does she know that?” She clearly didn’t want to say it anymore than he wanted to hear it, but she was right to.

He gave a half smile, he wanted to go back to her apartment for more cookies and spike cocoa and kissing and maybe more but he had to have an uncomfortable conversation before any of that could happen. “I guess I have a phone call to make,” he said, dropping his arms.

Pam lifted her shoulder and tilted her head, “Sorry, I just, I want to get this right.”

“No, absolutely, I want that too.” He took her gloved hands, rubbing his thumbs over the soft knit. “And we’re going to.”

She smiled and squeezed his fingers. “Now, get yourself home before it gets any colder.”

Reluctantly, he let go of her and started getting ready for the ride home, zipping up his coat and pulling on his gloves. “Should have brought a hat or something,” he said, slipping the strap of his bag over his head.

“Here.” Pam unwound the scarf around her neck and reached up to wrap it around him. When she was finished, she had his ears and the lower half of his face covered, the scarf still warm from being on her. “I want this back though.”

“You’ll get it back, very soon.” He pulled the scarf down and leaned towards her and she rewarded him with one more kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and she lifted her hand and softly cradled his neck. It was a lot like the first time he kissed her, up in that dark office not too far from where they stood now. But where that kiss felt a desperate last chance and ultimately like a goodbye, this kiss felt like promise and hope, with many, many more to come.